Page 119 of The Kingdom of Flames

But she also knew she wouldn’t, despite what she wanted. In all tales, no matter their configuration, Celestine denies herself the need for Encarmine for the good of the Painted Realm. That is why when truces are reached, they are titled “Accords of Celestine”.

“I’d make you many things.” Encarmine held her closer, his chest muscles becoming the nest she burrowed into. “A creature of grief and guilt is not one of them.” Encarmine stared into the darkness of the window. “I would condemn no one to love me.”

“Then you shouldn’t have won the duel,” Celestine laughed and cried at the same moment. She laid back, enjoying the visage of him. There was no love like first love, and she ran her hand over his close-cropped brown hair.

“It is not in my nature to surrender.” Encarmine stared into her. “You should have let me take that Yellow bastard’s head.”

“Maybe.” Celestine smiled, tracing her fingers on his arms. “But maybe not.”

“It all changes tomorrow,” Encarmine said, his eyes serious. She knew that look. The fixed determination. The dedication.

“Encarmine, what are you going to do?”

The Lord of the Red Banner did not mince his words nor shy away from them. “I’m going to kill them all.”

“Would you condemn my realm to a life of misery and warfare for me?”

Encarmine’s eyes fixed upon her. “Yes.”

It would be a tragedy, but some deep part of her wanted this to happen. She wanted him, someone, to care for nothing but being with her. To take the choice from her.

“My love, you are duty, are you not? You aren’t just the march to the enemy, but the absence of the father and mother when they leave.”

“I am,” Encarmine affirmed.

“And duty has a price. The greatest price. That’s what you taught me. That’s how I was able… to leave. I had to serve my people, not myself. What are you if you aren’t the paragon, the essence of that?”

Encarmine stared at her. She knew this was new territory for him, and the love he had to abandon himself and what he was for love of her, to forsake even his word, to even consider it. It was not like him.

“Would you love me even if I relinquished my honor and word? If I betrayed the standard I carry?” he asked.

Celestine kissed him, and the world hung in the balance of if she could convince him to return to sense. “I will always love you. But that isn’t what you are, and I can’t cause that nor be the cause of so much misery. Please, Encarmine, the fate you promise is crueler than even Tristien committed.”

Encarmine’s eyes grew dark. “It took everything not to lay waste to his realm. I wanted his banner broken at my feet, my supposed brother of Summer.”

Celestine watched him, waiting.

The Lord of Red looked back at her. “Only the greatest solace in my existence could have stopped me. And she did.” He touched her cheek, and she broke into tears once again.

“Then let it be so again, please, my love.”

Encarmine said nothing for a long time. Celestine imagined a world of endless summer, the sky hot, filled with the smoke of burned homes, the clash of battle. Encarmine was the husband of all widows, the father of every orphan, the thief of every home in the name of duty and conflict.

“For you,” Encarmine said finally. Celestine embraced him. “I want you to know—” he began.

“Shh,” Celestine quieted his words and placed his arms around her. His heart beat like a war drum, steady and inevitable. It didn’t need to be said. Encarmine would always be hers. Hers to call upon. His ring, hidden in her bag, would be the battle horn to him. With a whisper, war would be at the doors of anyone who dared harm her.

Even Death.

Chapter 28

The End of Summer

Aidric waited for her at the top of the stairs, and they walked together. Celestine still wore the travel leathers Azure had given her, and on her right wrist, she wore the three silken ribbons Encarmine had won. On her left, she wore a shackle.

“Declare thyself,” the mirrored guard with a silvered halberd said on the left of the door. “Those who seek.”

“And those that would be sought,” finished the other.

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